The Memory Box
by Cutelittleowl
Summary: Harry receives a memory box that belonged to his parents, before heading off to live with Sirius for the summer. Friendship, romance, and new faces await at another year of Hogwarts. Takes place after 4th year. Will likely be H/Hr
1. The Memory Box

It was still dark, but the sun was peeking shyly over the horizon, bringing streaks of reds, oranges, and yellows along with it. A ray of light pierced through a gap in the crooked blinds in the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive. The beam formed a spotlight on the forehead of a raven-haired boy, illuminating the lightning bolt that marred his features. The jagged scar was a bright red, as though it had been weeping blood. It was a stark contrast to the pale skin it tore through.

The boy let out a light snore, yawned widely, and rubbed at closed eyes with the palms of his hands. He blindly fumbled for his round, wire-framed glasses upon the nightstand, knocking a letter to the ground in the process, and glanced groggily at the Chudley Cannons calendar that hung lopsided beside the bed.

Harry sat up suddenly, as though he had been doused with ice-cold water. Today was the first of July! Reaching to the ground, he snatched at the fallen paper and read it for what felt like the hundredth time that summer.

 _Harry,_

 _Great news pup, this dog's shed his leash! Pettigrew, the filth, was captured by Dumbledore himself during a Death Eater raid at Pomona Sprout's is in St. Mungo's now, but they expect her to make a full recovery. Things would've been much worse if Albus didn't arrive when he did._

 _Dumbledore bound Peter and brought him directly to the ministry. As you know, Albus is the Supreme Mugwump, so he was able to call for an urgent meeting of the full Wizengamot. They conferred and put the vermin to question under Veritaserum, apparently they learned from their mistake in not using any on me. My name was cleared after that, of course. It'll be all over the morning's Prophet, but I wanted to be the one to break the news to you. I plan on making up to you all those years I missed of being your Godfather._

 _I'm sure you won't mind leaving the 'care' of your dear relatives, say, at six am on July the 1st to come stay with this old mutt?_

 _Best,_

 _Sirius_

Harry was relieved that Professor Sprout would be alright, despite her recent coolness towards him. Along with the rest of Hogwarts, she had wrongly assumed he entered his name in the Goblet of Fire, stealing some glory from Cedric in doing so. Of course, she came around in the end, after seeing the fate that awaited them both in the graveyard. Harry could still see Cedric's lifeless eyes staring up at him, and Voldemort hissing ' _Kill the spare.'_

Sighing, Harry gave his head a rough shake, as if he was forcing the memory out of his mind. At the beginning of summer, he had resolved to not dwell on those thoughts, he knew they would slowly drive him to madness. Changing the past was impossible, so he would do everything he could to focus on a bright future for himself and his friends.

His green eyes danced along the final lines of his godfather's letter. Today was the day he would leave Privet Drive for good. The thought of never seeing the Dursley's again sent the corners of his lips tugging upwards. Immediately after receiving the letter, Harry had sent Hedwig off to Sirius with an emphatic ' _Yes!',_ and instructed her to stay there until his arrival.

All of his belongings had been neatly stacked in the corner of his room. He had packed them ages ago in his excitement to leave, not that it had taken him very long. Most things Harry owned could be fit in just his school trunk, as his Aunt and Uncle had never been ones to shower him with gifts.

The days leading up to his departure had been spent catching up on work for his classes, and pouring over textbooks. Harry hadn't been the most dedicated student, but recent events had strengthened his resolve to put everything he had into educating himself and preparing for whatever may lie ahead. Many times, he found himself wondering what his best friend, Ron Weasley, say when he heard Harry spent the majority of his summer with his nose buried in books.

Harry glanced at his alarm clock, it read 5:07. Sirius said he'd arrange for him to come at six o'clock, but he'd never mentioned how they'd travel. He supposed it would be floo powder, or the Knight Bus. With any luck he'd be able to take off without rousing the Dursley's. It was a Saturday, and Dudley and his Uncle Vernon often slept well past ten on weekends.

As if his thoughts had stirred them awake, he heard the door to his Aunt and Uncle's bedroom creak open. Light footsteps made their way down the hallway, and paused in front of his room, almost hesitantly. Three soft knocks tapped against the hollow wood of the door.

"I'm awake, come in," Harry said, voice slightly lowered.

The knob turned slowly. Bony fingers gripped the edge of the door, and reluctantly nudged it open just enough for his Aunt Petunia to slide through the gap. Once through, she closed the door behind her. She craned her long neck and tilted her nose upwards slightly, as if smelling something foul.

"You're leaving, then." It was not a question.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

"We didn't ask for this, you know. One day Vernon and I are beginning our lives as newlyweds, the next I'm forced to explain to him how a random child appeared on our doorstep," she sniffed haughtily.

Harry's anger prickled at this. "Your sister had just died, an innocent baby was left to your care, and all you could think of was how your life would be affected?" His eyes flashed.

"I don't need to explain myself to you," she snapped. "You've always been an ingrate. Take this." She flung a small box onto the bed. "Some of your Mother's old things, I have no need of them." Without another word, or glance back in his direction, she wheeled, and slipped back out.

The box was the size of thick book, silky smooth, and appeared velvety black at first glance, but when the Harry brought it into the light, forest greens reflected, producing a radiant effect. Each corner was bound with fine leather padding, and an ornate, silver-plated clasp fastened it closed. The letters 'L' and 'J' were embroidered into the metal with a flourish, intertwining with each other as if they were lovers.

With a shaky hand, Harry turned the clasp, and eased the top upwards. Along the underside of the lid, 'Memories' was carved elegantly. The interior was a midnight purple felt, and resting on the bottom were various small trinkets and treasures, photographs, and, most notably, a necklace, a wand, and a golden snitch.

Harry carefully lifted the necklace by it's thin chain. It was white gold, and sparkled like the water beneath a rising sun. An emerald teardrop charm dangled, a thousand facets expertly carved so it gleamed with life. Hands still quivering, he gingerly fastened it around his neck, and felt as if a wind had caressed his body.

There was a loud _CRACK_ like that of a whip that sent Harry a foot into the air. A house-elf appeared by his side.

"Master Harry, I is being Kreacher, elf to the Black Family," he croaked, bowing deeply. His voice sounded like that of a bullfrog. "Sirius is instructing Kreacher to bring Master Harry and all of his things to the Black Manor."

"Hello Kreacher, thank's for coming." Harry said meekly. His heart was still pounding from the shock of an elf popping in. He had been so enraptured with his parents memory box, that he hadn't realized it was six 'oclock. "Just let me put this in my away." He stashed it safely in school trunk, wrapped in a pair of spare robes to protect from potential damage while traveling.

"Kreacher will come back for Master Harry's belongings," the said, tugging on Harry's arm. "It is being time to go."

Harry nodded at the elf, "Alright, Kreacher, all set." With a snap of the elf's long, crooked fingers, they vanished.


	2. The Black Manor

Streaks and colors whirled around Harry in a blur. He felt as if he was on the inside of a centrifuge, gyrating rapidly while being shot forward. The next thing he knew, he found himself landing softly on a black and white marble floor. The whirling had lasted all of a few seconds.

"Harry!" a voice barked out. His Godfather had been leaning along an ell-shaped countertop that must have went on at least fifty feet. A stove, dishwasher, skillet, and grill all could be found at various locations of the endless counter. There were three large windows filling the room with morning light, each with a sink beneath. He was in the largest kitchen he'd ever seen.

He strode over and gave Harry a one-armed hug and mussed his hair. Sirius Godfather looked infinitely better, being over a year since the end of his stint in Azkaban. Freedom had suited him, and roguish good looks started to grace his features. Jet black waves extended to his neck, and his figure had filled out with muscle. Stubble covered his face, and a strong jawline was evident. Harry could imagine witches would be swooning over the sight of him. "Good to see you, pup."

"Hello, Sirius," Harry said, beaming.

"I'll have Kreacher pop back and bring the rest of your things to your room. Let's eat some breakfast and then I'll give you a tour." He gestured to the large dining table behind them.

Harry took a good look around. The kitchen was massive in size, bigger than the whole first floor of the Dursley's. The table Sirius was referring to could have sat twenty comfortably, and reminded Harry of smaller versions of the house tables in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Bowls of eggs, fried potatoes, plates of pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage and various other breakfast foods covered the table. The aroma made Harry's mouth water. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. His stomach gave a loud rumble of agreement.

Sirius pulled out one of the plush armchairs at the head of the table, and motioned for Harry to sit in the chair on his right.

"Help yourself," he said, scooping a large helping of scrambled eggs onto his plate. "Kreacher's outdone himself today to honor of the arrival of my favorite Godson."

"Your favorite godson? Should I be concerned about Draco Malfoy edging me out?" he teased back, serving himself corned beef hash and choosing a few crispy strips of bacon.

Sirius let out a chuckle, "Not likely." He took a long swig of pumpkin juice, before filling Harry in on the going's on of the wizarding world. The Death Eaters had been fairly active, raids occurring about once a week or so. The casualties were lower compared to what they could've been, if not for Dumbledore actively leading a resistance group. Harry pressed Sirius for more information on the subject, but his attempts were brushed aside.

After breakfast, they toured the Black Manor. It was the size of a small castle, containing ten bedrooms, each complete with it's own sitting and bathroom, a training room in the basement, and more storage rooms than Harry thought could possibly be used.

Kreacher, acting as their guide, went on to explain all of the protective spellwork and warding that surrounded the land. It was unplottable, so it could not be found unless you were told where it was from someone who already knew. A kind of variation of the Fidelius Charm, not as safe, but more convenient for homeowners who still wished to be able to entertain guests.

What Harry was most excited about, however, was the regulation-sized quidditch pitch in the backyard, which even featured a miniature set of stands to seat observers. Sirius assured him they would put it to use this summer, and suggested he invite his friends over for a few matches.

The tour took all day. They ate a quick dinner, before Kreacher showed harry to his room, insisting he get some rest. All of the bedrooms branched off in two separate hallways at the top of the second floor, in a T shape. Harry's was the furthest down on the right hallway.

His new bedroom rivaled the Gryffindor common room in size, and was decorated too similarly for it to be a coincidence. The floor was cherry hardwood, twin garnet armchairs and sofas created an enclosure around a roaring fireplace, and in the center was an enormous canopy bed with matching gold-trimmed crimson drapes that could have fit four. As promised, all of his things had been brought up, and his clothes were neatly folded and stowed away in a large oak dresser.

Harry fumbled through his school trunk, and unraveled his memory box from the robes it had been cocooned in. Unconsciously, his hand went to the necklace he had put on this morning, and warmth filled him when he touched it's cool emerald stone.

He looked more intently at the other objects in the box. The wand was mahogany, and though it must've been years since it saw light, it gleamed as though freshly polished. He compared it to his own. Eleven inches, like mine he thought, holding them next to each other. Harry clasped his fingers around the wand, and felt a power surge in him. Mr. Ollivander's words echoed in his mind, 'The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter.'' Somehow, Harry knew that this wand had just chosen him to be it's new master.

Pocketing his new wand, he placed his old holly wand in the box, the one that shared a core with Voldemort's, both a feather from the same phoenix. Since finding that out, he had been uneasy about owning something linked in such a way to someone who embodied evil. Obtaining a new wand lifted that weight off his shoulders. He was anxious to see what he could achieve now, and made a mental note to practice some spellwork as soon as possible. Part of him believed owning something connected to Voldemort had hindered him in a way. With all the wards on the manor, perhaps he could even attempt them here, he'd have to remember to ask Sirius.

Shuffling a few trinkets and photos out of the way, he uncovered the golden snitch. It gleamed, so spotless that Harry could see his reflection as if he were looking into a mirror. Tiny wings burst out when Harry took the snitch into his hand, fluttering so quickly they seemed blurs in the air.

His fingers eased up, letting the snitch shoot away. Before it went more than a few feet, Harry's snatched it effortlessly, his natural seeker instincts taking over. So engrossed in his finding, he hadn't heard the door to his room open. The sound of clapping hands broke him from his trance.

"The number of times I saw your father catch that snitch," Sirius reminisced, a sad smile on his face.

"This was my dad's?" Harry asked, hungrily.

"Yup, nicked it from quidditch storage when he joined the team in our second year." Sirius plopped down next to Harry. His grey eyes sparked with excitement when he saw the box. "Where'd you get James and Lily's memory box? That's James' wand you've got there!" he said excitedly.

Harry explained how his aunt had stopped in to see him before leaving, as they examined the contents of the box together. Sirius had more than a few stories to share with Harry about some of the items, like the small lily pin that James had given to Harry's mum on their first date. Or the king from a wizarding chess set Lily had kept the first time she defeated James. According to Sirius, she was the only person who could best his father at chess.

"Do you know anything about this, then?" Harry asked, untucking his necklace from it's hiding place beneath his tee.

Sirius' mouth dropped slightly. "That's Lily's necklace! She was incredibly gifted with charms, and developed a bunch of her own protection spells. I know she was working on weaving them into objects, starting with that necklace. I don't think I ever saw her without it." He traced his finger along the edge of the pendant, far away in thought. "I think you'd do well to keep this on, pup. Knowing Lily, there's a good chance this will come in handy sometime. Plus, it's pretty dashing," he said, giving Harry a cheeky wink.

They spent some more time looking over old photographs, with Sirius scowling each time Wormtail appeared, and even shooting and Incendio at one of just the two of them.

Harry offered to let him keep a picture of his parents, Sirius, and a girl that reminded him of Susan Bones, all near a snowy Black Lake. They were talking and throwing snowballs at each other, before the mystery girl would put snow in the back of Sirius' shirt and run away. Sirius seemed a thousand miles away, and his eyes kept flickering back to the picture now in his hands.

Eventually, Sirius retired to bed, again suggesting Harry invite his friends over. When Harry inquired whether it would be too much trouble on Sirius and Kreacher, his Godfather waved a hand and assured him, "The more the merrier." Deciding to take Sirius up on the offer, Harry scrawled two letters, one inviting the Weasleys, and one for Hermione.

No longer in danger of angering the Dursleys, Hedwig had been able to fly freely around the room, and was currently resting atop the bed's canopy.

"Here girl," Harry called to her. He stroked her snow white wings softly. "Bring these to my Ron and Hermione, and make sure you wait for their replies before leaving." She nibbled at his fingers and gave a light hoot.

Harry unlocked the double window's golden hinge, each side opening towards him. He threw his arm out to give Hedwig a boost, and she took off into the cool air, her large wings flapping majestically. He watched as she slowly became a distant shape in the night sky, before melding into the shadows of the horizon.


End file.
